


Cast Down

by SLWalker



Series: Midnight Blue [15]
Category: Midnight Blue - Fandom, due South
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-10
Updated: 2012-05-10
Packaged: 2017-11-05 02:30:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/401467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SLWalker/pseuds/SLWalker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>1998: Two days after the RCMP's triumph against Muldoon, Mike finds himself with a very large envelope filled with evidence sent to him by his first rook.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cast Down

Mike drummed his fingers quietly on the thick, large envelope on his desk, focused on the invisible middle-distance beyond it. "What do you mean, Staff Sergeant?"

_"I just think he may be damaging his career."_

_Really,_ was what Mike thought, but he schooled his voice into neutral concern. "I'm afraid I haven't talked to Corporal Jennings in a few years; I'm not sure what you're getting at."

There was a long pause on the other end of the line. Staff Sergeant Sinclair apparently was at something of a loss. Mike thought he could understand why; strictly, he had been truthful with the man. He hadn't literally talked to his first rook in years. But under his fingers was an envelope, and in that envelope were shipping receipts. Maps. Dates. Times. Copies of reports. Financial summaries. _Evidence._ Mike hadn't even really _started_ parsing it out yet, but he was a good enough investigator that he knew a big case when he saw one. Maybe even as big as the Muldoon capture two days ago.

And he knew that if Brett was sending him something like this, with no return address, after all of this time? It had to be something big. Something huge. Something that he didn't trust his own team with. Considering that Brett was one of the best undercover operatives in the Force, that _meant something_.

 _"If he contacts you, Sergeant Chase, just... please, for his sake, tell him to be careful."_ The man sounded exasperated.

"Of course, Staff," Mike answered, readily. "Is there anything else I can help you with?"

_"No. Thank you."_

"Let me know if there is. Have a good day," Mike said, then set the phone back on its cradle, focusing on the envelope again. After a long moment where he sat listening to the constables in the front ribbing each other good-naturedly, he closed his eyes and let a slow breath out.

They were a decent bunch. Allan and Hall were going at it again; Prince was apparently their unwitting mediator. The others weren't on shift. He saw no reason to go and interfere; aside handing out their assignments, and keeping an eye on things from above, Mike trusted them to handle their jobs without much in the way of input from him. For their part, aside him once in awhile needing to remind Allan to clean up his court presentations, they did well. A bunch of fairly young constables, working in the same detachment as him, and still somehow a whole world away.

Mike shook it off and opened the envelope.

Three days later, and already realizing just _what_ he had been sent, he received word that Corporal Brett Jennings had been shot in the head.


End file.
